Sifar
06-03-2008, 11:56 AM
The small figure sat still amidst the flickering firelight. Her legs were tucked demurely beneath her as she sat on the folded, grey blanket. Her back remained ramrod straight while her shoulders and arms were in constant movement. She bent her head over the task in her lap; a slight grating of stone upon metal sang out as she sharpened a blade. Her loose hair hung like a dark curtain around her face, swaying slightly as the fire danced and leapt next to her. A flash of light spun across the small camp before she leaned forward to place the heavy blade before her knees.
Arrayed next to it were the various tools and bottles of her trade. She brought her favorites closer. She knew their contents by touch, each bottle different in shape for easy recognition in the darkest of places. Maiden’s Anguish and Deathweed stems laid nearby, their bits already combined into liquid distillations: poisons to dull the mind, slow the muscles, and continue to kill even after she is gone. Each bottle is soon tucked into a small pouch at her waist.
Her hands rest a moment on her thighs as she tilted her head to the sky, staring at the stars arrayed overhead. She drew two deep breaths of the cold night air before returning to her preparations. Eyes glazed over as they focused somewhere deep in the heart of the fire. Arms lifting, her fingers began to separate the dark wall of hair into sections. Taking no more than a handful, she separated it further and began to braid. Nimble fingers twisted and grabbed in a constant fluid motion working their way quickly down to the end. A bit of string appeared as if from nowhere and was quickly wrapped and tied around the end. Her right hand moved up to grasp the thickest part of the braid while the other deftly slipped a sharp metal spike deep within the dark strands.
Satisfied it was hidden, she continued to separate, decorate, and arm her braids; a bit of bone in one, a long wire plaited into another. The tiniest of smiles tugged at her otherwise placid face as she added each bead or weapon until, finally, each one was done. Deftly and without a wasted movement, she twisted these together and fixed them as loops around her head. Not a strand was out of place by the time her hands rested once again upon her thighs.
She sat like this for several minutes. Her eyes closed and her face lit by the fire, she silently measured out the time. With a deep breath, she let her head fall back and her eyes open to stare at the stars once again. Satisfied that the time was somehow right, she shifted forward and then up onto her feet. Her face was lit from below by the warm flames until being summarily doused by a pile of dirt and a skin of water.
Her brush, the blanket, each bottle, and even the weedy plants were tucked away before the young Dwarf began her trek north. With the glimmer of a road on her left, she kept to the shadows of the great pine trees and stunted bushes. Occasional rodents scuttled in the underbrush, but most were asleep at this hour. Owls hunted overhead and bright eyes blinked slowly in the darkness and she walked with silent purpose to the shores of a great lake.
Campfires and primitive huts dotted the small cluster of islands as she looked across the expanse of water. The keep on the larger isle appeared dark in the night. She dismissed them both quickly and tried to make out the great walls of the decaying city beyond. Not yet visible, she focused on picking her way along her chosen route. Taking the circuitous, but dryer, path, she followed the western shore wherever she was able.
Her boots somewhat the wetter for the wearing, she eventually left the relative safety of the ancient pine forest for the more open land of Tirisfal. Now, the old city walls were within sight and the rogue crept carefully but quickly along the east-west road. Crossing it, she made her way up and around a steep hill, following the near silent bats which glided overhead. The largest of these carried heavy riders through a barely concealed tunnel entrance and into the city below.
((Okay, so it's the start of a story. I'm posting for two reasons: feedback and as an incentive to finish it.))
Arrayed next to it were the various tools and bottles of her trade. She brought her favorites closer. She knew their contents by touch, each bottle different in shape for easy recognition in the darkest of places. Maiden’s Anguish and Deathweed stems laid nearby, their bits already combined into liquid distillations: poisons to dull the mind, slow the muscles, and continue to kill even after she is gone. Each bottle is soon tucked into a small pouch at her waist.
Her hands rest a moment on her thighs as she tilted her head to the sky, staring at the stars arrayed overhead. She drew two deep breaths of the cold night air before returning to her preparations. Eyes glazed over as they focused somewhere deep in the heart of the fire. Arms lifting, her fingers began to separate the dark wall of hair into sections. Taking no more than a handful, she separated it further and began to braid. Nimble fingers twisted and grabbed in a constant fluid motion working their way quickly down to the end. A bit of string appeared as if from nowhere and was quickly wrapped and tied around the end. Her right hand moved up to grasp the thickest part of the braid while the other deftly slipped a sharp metal spike deep within the dark strands.
Satisfied it was hidden, she continued to separate, decorate, and arm her braids; a bit of bone in one, a long wire plaited into another. The tiniest of smiles tugged at her otherwise placid face as she added each bead or weapon until, finally, each one was done. Deftly and without a wasted movement, she twisted these together and fixed them as loops around her head. Not a strand was out of place by the time her hands rested once again upon her thighs.
She sat like this for several minutes. Her eyes closed and her face lit by the fire, she silently measured out the time. With a deep breath, she let her head fall back and her eyes open to stare at the stars once again. Satisfied that the time was somehow right, she shifted forward and then up onto her feet. Her face was lit from below by the warm flames until being summarily doused by a pile of dirt and a skin of water.
Her brush, the blanket, each bottle, and even the weedy plants were tucked away before the young Dwarf began her trek north. With the glimmer of a road on her left, she kept to the shadows of the great pine trees and stunted bushes. Occasional rodents scuttled in the underbrush, but most were asleep at this hour. Owls hunted overhead and bright eyes blinked slowly in the darkness and she walked with silent purpose to the shores of a great lake.
Campfires and primitive huts dotted the small cluster of islands as she looked across the expanse of water. The keep on the larger isle appeared dark in the night. She dismissed them both quickly and tried to make out the great walls of the decaying city beyond. Not yet visible, she focused on picking her way along her chosen route. Taking the circuitous, but dryer, path, she followed the western shore wherever she was able.
Her boots somewhat the wetter for the wearing, she eventually left the relative safety of the ancient pine forest for the more open land of Tirisfal. Now, the old city walls were within sight and the rogue crept carefully but quickly along the east-west road. Crossing it, she made her way up and around a steep hill, following the near silent bats which glided overhead. The largest of these carried heavy riders through a barely concealed tunnel entrance and into the city below.
((Okay, so it's the start of a story. I'm posting for two reasons: feedback and as an incentive to finish it.))